


Of Course, Master

by birdie7272



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Slavery, Arthur is a confused little duckling, Banter, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Master/Slave, Merlin gives no fucks, Merlin is a Little Shit, No Smut, Slavery, it seems dark but it's just fluff, seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:14:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26015608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birdie7272/pseuds/birdie7272
Summary: Merlin is the worst slave ever.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 104





	Of Course, Master

Arthur hung his head in his hands. He leaned against the desk in his room and willed the sturdy wood to help support his remaining sanity. 

“Seriously!” Merlin was on the floor doing a very poor job at scrubbing. “How can you support the ownership of other humans? Like cattle! People are capable of sentient thought. Not that a cow isn’t, mind. Not that I think we should even really own cows. More like watch over them-”

“You should take mind to watching your own mouth,” Arthur snapped. There was a pulsing in his neck and it was driving a needle straight into his brain. “Who trained you to be so obstinate?” 

Merlin slapped the wet rag on the ground and sat up with a scoff. The chains around his wrists clanked. “I’ll have you know my mother raised me to uphold good morals. Little could be said for you. Of course, your mother’s dead so-”

Red hot anger splashed over Arthur’s vision. Suddenly he had the collar around Merlin’s neck in a tight fist, pulling Merlin's skin taught. He spat his words directly into Merlin’s stupid, smug, smirk. “You do realize your position. You are a slave. Worth less than a servant.” He tugged harder at the leather band, making Merlin choke. “Your life is futile.” 

Merlin gagged on his words but his smirk never faltered. “You do realize your tone is very condescending.”

Arthur threw the boy away from him and thrust his hands into the air. “You can’t talk to me that way!” 

Merlin landed on his back and rubbed at his neck while glaring up. His voice was scratchy but filled with sarcasm. “Oh, right, yes, of course, _master_.”

Arthur covered his face with his hands again, words muffled by his palms as he muttered, “I should really kill you and be done.”

Merlin flopped completely onto his back, as if he were not in the middle of doing his chores but taking a relaxing break. He flung an elbow over his eyes which forced both his arms up as the chain linking his cuffs pulled. He spoke in a deadpanned, monotone, completely insubordinate voice. “Oh no, don’t kill me. Not when I have so much to look forward to in my life. Torture and punishment and dehumanizing labor. No. Don’t. Please.”

Arthur meant to kick him in the gut but he pulled his punch and barely tapped him in the thigh instead. “I should cut out your tongue.” 

Merlin peeked out from under his elbow. “Then who will lick your boots?” 

A muscle pulled in Arthur’s jaw. He stomped towards Merlin’s head and thrust down his foot by his face, just barely avoiding those ridiculously giant ears. “Go on then.”

Merlin slowly lowered his arm above his head, pulling his other arm into an awkward angle as the chain cut over Arthur’s ankle. He turned his cheek, looked at the boot by his face, and then back up at Arthur. He raised a cocky little eyebrow. “You know, I begged them to assign me to Morgana. But nooOooo. I’m too much man for any lady.”

Arthur tried very hard not to laugh and barely succeeded. “You don’t have enough meat on your bones to warm the bed of a chipmunk, let alone any lady.”

“What I lack in meat, I more than make up for in skill.” Merlin winked at him. 

Honestly, the slave _winked_ at him. 

Arthur’s mouth opened but the words escaped him. His face flushed with an embarrassing lack of wit. 

“You know,” Merlin said from the floor, back to staring up at the ceiling and relaxing his limbs. “The other slaves said you were the best royal to get assigned to next to Morgana but so far I’m not seeing it.”

Arthur shoved the toe of his boot into Merlin’s shoulder. “How you were ever assigned a royal is beyond me.”

“Right!” Merlin agreed sagely as he closed his eyes. Ready for a nap. “One of the knights would have made more sense. The librarian. The physician even.” He winked open an eye and frowned. “You know I can read and write? Much better use of time than polishing your armour.” 

“You don’t get to make requests, slave,” Arthur reminded him and shoved the side of his boot into Merlin’s face. “You do as you are told.” 

Merlin let the small kick roll his head but snapped it right back up to glare at Arthur. “So far all I see is a royal prick waving around his title as if that’s supposed to make him somehow better than me.”

Arthur’s fists twitched. He knelt to the ground and growled behind clenched teeth. “So far all I see is a small decrepit worm who I could crush beneath my foot in less than one blow.” He gripped Merlin’s jaw between his fist and forced him to look into Arthur’s burning gaze. “You would do well to remember your station.” He shoved Merlin’s face away and stood. He pulled his boot up and stomped on Merlin’s chains, keeping him pinned at his awkward angle. “Remind me why I would bother to keep you around. Bootlicker.” 

A flash of pink coloured Merlin’s face. His lips trembled with hatred and his eyes flashed with violence. But his hands were tied, crossing over his temple and stuck under Arthur’s weight. 

“Of course, _master_.” 

Merlin twisted his body around, further twirling his chains together, until he was on his stomach, Arthur’s boot now directly under his chin. 

A heat pooled low in Arthur’s stomach. 

Merlin glared up at him from under his brow and stuck out his tongue with every ounce of derision one could muster form such a position. He kept his eyes on Arthur’s as he leaned his body forward, tongue hovering just over leather. Then, his body lurched forward. His nose rammed into Arthur’s ankle and shoved his trousers up. His tongue pressed hot and flat against his shin as he licked up Arthur’s flesh as high as the strain on his back would allow. 

Arthur yelped and tripped backwards. Air cooled the wet patch now on his skin and made his flowing trousers stick to his body. “What the hell?!”

Merlin gathered his chains under his shoulders and leaned his head on his palms as he looked up at Arthur, pure innocence and mockery. “You asked me to prove my skill, master. I was just doing what you asked.” 

Again, Arthur found himself at a lack of words. 

Merlin rolled his body up and carefully pushed himself to his feet. The spreader bar attached to his ankles afforded him movement but it was slow going. He made his way towards Arthur’s bed. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” Arthur shouted. 

Merlin shrugged his shoulders and grabbed the bottom of his tunic. He pulled it up over his head and let it pool at his wrists. “Going to bed.” He flipped back Arthur’s covers and flopped onto the bed, yanking his legs over the edge and under the covers. "You're more pig than chipmunk but it'll have to do." 

“No!” Arthur charged to his bed and twisted Merlin’s chains in his fist. “You are not sleeping in my bed.” He yanked and pulled Merlin’s top half off the bed, hovering him over the floor. 

Merlin yelped and grabbed Arthur’s wrists with his fingers. He wobbled as Arthur’s arm shook. “I’m not sleeping on the floor! It’s wet!” 

“And so are you!” Arthur shook him. 

Merlin’s fingers latched tighter. “So you wouldn’t want me to catch something and pass it on to you and kill you by accident, now would you?!” 

Arthur sucked in a breath. He stared at Merlin’s gobsmacked, disobedient face and shoved him roughly back onto the bed. “Tomorrow you are getting a bail of hay and a rag.” 

Merlin watched from the bed as Arthur did _his_ job and put out all of the torches. 

“Tonight,” Merlin said, “You are getting a roaring bonfire. You may not want me on the ground when you realize I have enough heat in me to warm the beds of all of the royals and the knights and the librarian _and_ the physician.”

“Sounds like a sweaty, grimey nightmare.” Arthur shoved tunic off and jabbed his legs under the blankets, kicking Merlin’s body away from him. "Or a whore's fantasy."

“Are you describing yourself in the morning?” Merlin asked. He moved a pillow over his tunic-encased chains and plopped down his head. "Because you are clearly more nightmare than fantasy." 

Arthur stole the pillow and shoved it on the wet ground with a plop. 

Merlin gaped. “You are a boorish human being.”

Arthur shoved a pillow over his own head and covered his eyes and ears with it as best he could. “Merlin?”

Merlin moved the entire bed when he careened both his legs over in order to kick Arthur’s sticky shin. “Yes, Arthur?” 

“Shut up,” Arthur growled. 

Merlin settled his body down. Every inch of him was scalding against Arthur’s skin. 

Arthur shoved him away. 

Merlin fell into the dip on the bed and rolled back into him. 

Arthur sighed and squeezed his eyes shut. Tomorrow he was going to kill Merlin. Then, he was going to find a chain short enough and strap it around Merlin's wrists and bar so that Merlin was always bowing just the slightest bit. Then, he would find an attachment for the base of his bed so he could keep Merlin at the foot of it like the dog he was. 

Something hot and wet poked Arthur’s shoulder. Arthur gasped and jumped. 

Merlin slipped his tongue back into his mouth and giggled.

“I’ll kill you,” Arthur promised. 

“Of course, _master._ ”


End file.
